Absent Minded?
by Sherlock River Hekate
Summary: You walk into the sanctum and found that Stephen had done some things that were out of the ordinary. He isn't normally this absent minded, so what has happened?


Absent minded wasn't a word that you would use to describe Doctor Stephen Strange. Dedicated, stubborn, talented and even occasionally arrogant, sure. But he was not usually absent minded. That wasn't to say that he didn't forget things. He did, often, as Wong would attest to. But those things were usually along the lines of meals or sleep, and the occasional meeting with the Avengers. If you asked Stephen though, those rare occasions only happened when he was deeply absorbed in study to prevent the next interdimensional disaster. And it was less forgetting and more along the lines of the fact he didn't have the time to waste on those activities if he wanted to actually do his job as Sorcerer Supreme.

I walked into the large room in the sanctum that Stephen had long ago claimed as his study. The midday light was filtering in through the window behind him, lighting the large leather bound tome that was opened on the desk. To his left was a plate, a sandwich sitting untouched on it, and a mug of tea. It had obviously been there for a while, there was no steam rising off of the liquid. As I approached I could see that the tea was as untouched as the sandwich, which was unusual.  
I reached the edge of the desk and still Stephen hadn't looked up from what he was doing.  
"Hey Sweetie," I said gently. "What're you reading?"  
He looked up abruptly, surprised at seeing and hearing someone else in the room.  
"Hello," he said softly. "Just doing some reading."  
I picked up the cup to have a sip of tea myself and grimaced at what I tasted.  
"Eugh, your tea has gone cold!"  
Stephen looked at the cup in my hand. "Oh, I had forgotten it was even there."  
I shook my head at him with a smile. "I suppose you forgot about that sandwich too?"  
He smiled ruefully at me, which was all the answer I needed.  
"I'm going to go and make a warm cup," I told him. "Take a break from your reading and please eat that sandwich."  
I turned, cup in hand, to the kitchen, but as I turned I thought I saw him raise his hands and massage his head. The movement was quick and I was already out of the room before my brain actually recognised what I thought I'd seen.

The kettle was sitting half-filled on the counter, which was unusual as it was normally refilled once it had been used. However, Wong wasn't currently in the tower so it's possible he forgot to refill it on his way out. More worrying was the pot sitting on the stove top. It was lucky that it was an electric stove top, because the pot was sitting on a different burner than the one that had been switched on. And judging by the heat coming off of the burner, it had been on for a while. Lifting the lid, I noticed that it was a form of seafood chowder. That meant that Stephen had been the one to put the soup on, probably in preparation for lunch, and then forgotten about it. That was worrying.

I made my way back in with two steaming cups of tea, chai with honey and milk. Stephen was back to reading the book, the sandwich only half eaten. Carefully I placed the cup down, and one shaking hand reached for it once it was set on the desk.  
"Didn't like it?" I asked him.  
"Not hungry," he replied, looking at me.  
I sighed. "Okay, fine. Just drink the tea at least." I was glad that I'd put a bit more honey and milk in than usual. It might at least make up for the lack of food a little bit.  
"Did you put the soup on?" I asked cautiously.  
He looked up in alarm.  
"Oh, shit!"  
I interrupted as he hurriedly stood. "I took it off and put it back in the fridge. You'd turned on one burner and then put the pot on a different burner. Lucky it's an electric stove."  
He ran a hand over his face and winced.  
"Thanks. I guess I got absorbed in this," he waved at the book. "Totally forgot I'd put that on. I had wanted there to be something warm for our lunch."  
"It's okay," I held up my cup. "I've got this."  
I sat myself down on a large armchair with my own book and the cup of tea. I was concerned though, even in the middle of reading it wasn't like Stephen to forget about the stove. And that definitely didn't explain why the wrong burner had been switched on in the first place. What was causing him to be so absent minded?

It was about 2pm when I was pulled from my thoughts by a small grunt. I raised my head and saw that Stephen was rubbing his temples with shaking hands. No more of the sandwich had been consumed and only about half the cup of tea had been drunk. Normally Stephen would have finished it by now.  
Carefully I watched as he returned to the book, finger tracing the inked words. A frown was forming on his face, and he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath in and then slowly let it out, before repeating it.  
Quietly I stood and made my way to where he was seated. He didn't look at me as I approached, and he flinched when I placed my hands on his shoulders.  
"Your shoulders are very tense," I commented.  
He hummed, relaxing only slightly when I started massaging them.  
After a moment he pulled away.  
"Could you stop, please?" He asked, voice rough.  
"What's the matter?" I asked, alarmed.  
"Just a headache," he waved it off. "I'm sure I'll be alright if I drink some water. I've had it since I woke up."  
I frowned. If he hadn't drunk the tea, then I wasn't sure why he thought the water would be much more help.  
As he stood, he wobbled. The Cloak helped to right him before I was able to get be of any assistance. Slowly, Stephen made his way to the other side of the desk, hand on it to help keep his balance.  
"Are you sure you're ok?" I asked worriedly.  
He turned and glared at me. "It's just a headache, I'm sure I'll be fine to walk to the kitchen and back."  
I held my hands up in surrender and settled myself back in the armchair as he made his way, slowly, out of the room.

It seemed like no time had passed, and the Cloak of Levitation was hovering in front of me, one corner of material wrapping around my wrist and tugging. I looked at it and the rugging became more insistent. I placed the book down and stood, and the Cloak pulled me along. I followed it out of the room and down the corridor, where I heard noise drifting from one of the bathrooms.  
The Cloak stopped out the front and I tentatively pushed the door open.  
Stephen was sitting on the floor, eyes squeezed shut and his whole body was shaking slightly. As I stood there, he turned to lean over the toilet again and I rushed forward. As he emptied his stomach I ran my hand down his back.  
When he was down he sat backward and looked at me.  
"I'm sorry," he said tiredly.  
"What are you sorry for?" I asked.  
"I may have underestimated how badly I was feeling." He admitted. "I think I've developed a migraine."  
I nodded slowly. It would certainly explain his actions over the course of the day so far. The Cloak was hovering by the entrance of the room. If a piece of material could show worry, then that was the Cloak right now. I smiled at it softly and it bobbed once. Then it moved to rest by the doorway.  
Stephen lurched again, leaning over the toilet and heaving with nothing coming up. When it stopped, he leant back, resting his head against the cold tiled wall.  
"Do you think you're done for now?" I asked gently.  
He nodded.  
"Okay. I want to get you to bed, but I also want to go get some water and painkillers for you. Are you able to get yourself to bed, or do you want a hand?"  
He shot me a look, but the intensity was hindered by the exhaustion in his eyes.  
"I should be capable of walking the short distance to our bedroom."  
I nodded as he pushed himself to his feet. I didn't think he looked well enough to walk anywhere, but the Cloak saved me from having to make an intervention. It floated over, wrapping itself around its chosen sorcerer and guide him out of the room.  
With that taken care of, I made my way to the kitchen. I switched the kettle on, searching the cupboards for the tea. I made a mix of St John's wort, peppermint and chamomile, which should help with the nausea and the pain both from the headache and his hands. I stopped the kettle before boiling, pouring the warmed water over the tea leaves and grabbing two Panadol. A quick test of the water with my finger proved it was a drinkable temperature.

Balancing the cup, the tablets and a few dry crackers, I made my way to the bedroom. The door was open and Stephen was sitting on the edge of the bed. The Cloak was hovering beside him, attempting to help him remove the belts and buckles of his tunic. With a small sigh I placed what I was carrying on the bedside table and knelt beside the ill sorcerer.  
"Do you want a hand with all that?"  
He swatted my hand away, but his own were shaking badly. He tried a couple more times to get a buckle open and then gave up.  
"Yes, if you wouldn't mind," he admitted.  
Carefully I undid each buckle and unwound the belts, before helping him slip the tunic off. I went to grab a shirt for him, but by the time I had turned back around he was already under the covers. Instead, I passed him the crackers.  
"Love, I'm really not hungry."  
"I know, but you need to put something in your stomach before you take the Panadol."  
Grudgingly, Stephen took them and slowly ate the crackers as I closed the blinds and the door.  
Once I made my way back to the bed, he made grabby hands for the cup of tea. I rolled my eyes with a chuckle and handed him both the cup and the tablets.  
Taking a tentative sip, he relaxed as the warm liquid slipped down his throat.  
"How much of my drink did you have before you got the perfect temperature?" he asked with a smirk.  
"None," I replied breezily. "It's got St John's wort in it for the pain."  
His eyes widened and then he nodded. "Thank you, then."  
The Cloak laid itself over the bed, effectively tucking the sorcerer in as he lay down.  
He turned on his side, getting comfortable and letting the painkillers start taking effect, and I went to leave him to sleep.  
"Would you mind staying?" He asked softly.  
I nodded and returned to the bedside. I reached for a change of clothes as I removed what I was wearing, but Stephen's hand gripped my wrist.  
"I want the skin contact," he explained.  
I nodded. "So long as you keep your hands to yourself. I don't want to make the headache worse."  
"Well, actually there are studies that say the endorphins released actually help with headaches…."  
"No," I said firmly. "We are not trying that. Plus, you don't have a simple headache, you have a migraine."  
I still slipped into the bed beside him, and he rolled so that he was laying against me.  
"Rest," I said, opening a book and using a little magic to illuminate the pages. "I'll be here when you wake up."

The sun had well and truly set when Stephen woke up again. He still winced at the light that I was using to illuminate the pages of my book. I'd moved on from the spell book to one for leisure, I wasn't focussing enough to take in anything I had read anyway.  
"How are you feeling now?" I asked, voice soft.  
"Better, but the pain is still there," he replied in a gravelly voice.  
"How about some of that soup for dinner, another cup of tea and some more sleep?" I suggested.  
Stephen rolled onto his back and stared at the dark ceiling for a moment.  
"Swap the soup for some plain toast and you have a deal," he conceded.  
I placed my book down and stood, pulling on my pyjamas so that I could leave the room.  
"Is Wong back then?" Stephen asked, gesturing to my clothes.  
I nodded in affirmation. "Got back about an hour and a half ago."  
I left Stephen resting, the Cloak still spread out over the top of the bed.

I decided to heat up the soup anyway, while toasting some bread. Even if Stephen didn't want soup, Wong and I could eat it.  
As the soup had finished heating, Wong walked into the room. He raised an eyebrow at me when he saw what I was wearing.  
"Not feeling well?"  
I snorted. "Not me, I'm fine. Stephen has a migraine. We forced him to bed at about 2pm."  
"We?"  
"The Cloak and I. It was very insistent."  
Wong laughed. "That I can imagine."  
I pushed the bowl of soup towards him, and put the bread on a plate.  
I looked between the soup in the bowl, the plate and cup of tea.  
"Wong?" He looked at me. "Would you mind helping me carry this up?"  
He placed his own bowl down and picked up Stephen plate, before following me out of the kitchen and to the bedroom.

When we reached the bedroom, Stephen had raised himself to a sitting position, but he looked pale.  
"Wong," he greeted the other sorcerer. "I hope the trip went well."  
"It went fine, Strange," he replied.  
"I thought I asked for no soup," he looked at me, unimpressed.  
"Relax," I passed him the plate of toast. "This is yours, the soup is mine."  
Wong passed the soup to me and then looked critically at Strange.  
"I told you not to overexert yourself," he commented before walking back out.  
"Should I ask?" I looked at him.  
Stephen shook his head tiredly. "Nothing more than usual."  
I sat back on the bed and gestured to the plate.  
"Eat up and then you can sleep again." And then I turned to my own dinner.

The food was finished a while ago, as was Stephen's tea. But the sorcerer had not fallen back asleep.  
"What's the matter, hun?" I asked as he rolled over for the fifth or sixth time.  
"My head hurts so much," he groaned. "I can't get comfortable."  
I shifted slightly, reclining against the headboard a little.  
"Come here." I patted my thigh.  
Stephen shifted slightly, resting his head on my thighs. I ran my hand through his hair gently, massaging the scalp as I went. After a few times, he visibly relaxed and his breath started slowing. Then about five minutes later, I felt his breathing even out and I could tell that he had finally fallen asleep. With one hand I opened my book and the other I continued to run through his hair. This was definitely a trick I needed to remember.  
Before too long, I started to feel drowsy myself and slowly shifted myself down. I worked hard to not disturb my sleeping partner, but he moved his arm, throwing it over my waist once I was laying down as well. It didn't take too long and I was fast asleep too.

The next morning I was woken by the sun coming through the curtains, leaving a strip directly on my face. I groaned and opened my eyes, squinting at the bright light, but it was blocked by something.  
In my sleep I had moved to snuggling my head against Stephen's chest. Now that he was aware that he was awake, he dropped a kiss on my forehead.  
"Good morning love," he greeted me.  
I wiggled my way further up to look him in the eyes.  
"Morning, how are you feeling now?"  
He brushed an errant strand of hair off my face and smiled at me.  
"I'm feeling fine."  
I raised an eyebrow at him disbelievingly.  
"I promise. All good."  
I decided to believe him. "Since when do you get migraines anyway?"  
"Last one was in my final year of med school. I used to get them fairly regularly during my time at uni."  
That made sense actually.  
"Are you sure you're feeling alright today?"  
He nodded. "If I got some sleep they usually went away after a day."  
I stretched and looked at the window, groaning.  
"Would you feel better if I took it slow today? Had a lazy day?" he asked.  
"Yes," I said in relief.  
"I'll tell Wong and we can stay in bed all day if you want."  
I smiled. That sounded like a great plan.


End file.
